Chapter 25
The sounds and shapes around him ceased their spiralling.
Blinking rapidly, Dorean then saw Gorion; the wizard was sitting on a bed, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.
On the other side of the bed was Dorean's 19-year-old self, quietly reading a book.
This was when he came back, twenty years ago. After...whatever it was he had to leave for. And if I remember this right, what happened next-
The door flew open and Ulraunt stormed in, robes billowing behind him and beard almost sweeping up onto his shoulder, followed by an anxious Tethtoril.
"Get up," the Keeper of the Tomes growled, pointing at Gorion with his staff. "Take that thing with you," he swept the staff toward Young-Dorean. "And get out."
Young-Dorean became still and rigid as a statue, his hands maintaining their hold on the book as what little emotion on his face instantly drained away.
Gorion also displayed no reaction, his eyes remaining closed in apparent sleep.
"Ulraunt," said Tethtoril. "I beg of you, please try to-"
"I have tolerated your presence here long enough." Ulraunt planted his staff firmly on the ground. "I warned you not to test me. Now, get out of my castle."
The wizard did not move. A vein bulged in Ulraunt's temple.
"Did you not hear me? I said-"
"How long did you keep him in that cell?"
The words were soft, almost gentle, yet they hit the room like a thunderbolt. Ulraunt instantly went silent. Tethtoril's face slackened, and he slowly started to back away from the Keeper.
Gorion's eyes slowly opened, gazing at the two men. He did not move from the bed.
"Ulraunt," said Tethtoril. "Go. Now."
The Keeper stared silently at Gorion for a long moment. Then, keeping his eyes on the wizard, he slowly turned and made for the door.
A few seconds after he had left, Tethtoril closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then turned back to Gorion.
"I will return shortly and...and I will explain everything."
Gorion nodded silently in answer. The Reader hesitated, then nodded back. He gave another nod to Young-Dorean and then left, closing the door behind him.
Silence filled the room again. After a moment, Gorion turned his gaze from the door to Young-Dorean. The little dwarf stared quietly back at him, his face as unreadable as it was the day he left three months ago.
Gorion then slid closer and, after a moment's hesitation, reached out towards him. The dwarf blinked, but neither flinched nor shrank away.
The wizard examined his injuries, gently feeling the bandages wrapped around his small torso and his forehead. Young-Dorean did not respond to his touch, his expression stony and dead-eyed.
Those injuries...in those three months. Dorean blinked and lowered his head. Can't remember much of what happened then. Still mostly foggy to me.
Finally, Gorion took the little dwarf's hands in his own. He quietly examined the bandages covering them from fingers to wrist, then looked up at his face.
An entire minute passed with neither of them speaking or moving.
"I am sorry for leaving you," Gorion said at last. "And for taking so long to come back." He grasped the tiny hands in his palms, gently closing his fingers around them. "I won't leave you again. I promise."
Gorion paused. He then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the dwarf.
Young-Dorean blinked several times, staring straight ahead. Then he slowly lowered his face into Gorion's shoulder.
Dorean felt his own feet move, his footsteps light and soundless, until he was standing next to the bed. He looked up at the man hugging his younger self, and his left hand reached out to touch him.
However, he could not make contact; as though the distance between them was further than an arm's reach.
He lowered his hand and stood there, staring up at his foster father.
"...but you did. And for good this time," he said. "You left me alone again."
He felt the unbidden tears flow down his face into his beard.
He did not know how long he remained that way; if it was a minute or an hour. Eventually, however, a flicker of movement caught his eye.
Young-Dorean was now looking at him from over Gorion's shoulder.
"You are not alone," he said softly.
Dorean blinked rapidly. He then opened his mouth to speak when a sudden, overwhelming stab of pain erupted in his chest, and his vision was filled again by pools of golden light.
..
Dorean's eyes slammed open and he immediately began gasping violently for air.
Next to him, Imoen watched in horror as the dwarf writhed on the bed clutching and clawing at his chest, then looked up at the couple several paces away.
"Jaheira!"
In answer to her name, the Tethyrian raced from Khalid's bedside to Dorean's. She ran a swift eye over the dwarf, and Imoen's alarm rose upon seeing the confusion in her eyes.
"He's h-having a seizure or, or a heart attack!" she cried. "Do something!"
Jaheira looked up at her.
"I-"
Her eyes widened as Xzar moved from where he had been standing near the wall, coming up to the bed. Pushing Imoen aside, he swiftly placed one hand under the head of the squirming, gasping dwarf, lifting it slightly off the pillow.
Xzar's other hand produced a glass vial, deftly removing the stopper with a single flick of his thumb, and he had it lifted to Dorean's lips for a single second when it was suddenly wrenched from his grip and dashed onto the floor.
Jaheira's other hand grabbed a fistful of Xzar's robes and shoved him hard away from the bed. Dorean's head fell back down and the liquid still in his throat entered his windpipe. His gasps turned into violent chokes.
"What did you do to him?!" Jaheira yelled.
The wizard stared down at the broken remnants of the vial, its murky contents spreading over the floor. He then looked up at Jaheira, his green eyes wide and aflame.
"That was very rude," he whispered. His hands glowed blue, and he slowly stepped towards her.
Khalid was on his feet in an instant, placing himself between Xzar and Dorean's bed with teeth bared and sword in hand.
a nearby corner, Montaron calmly eased himself from the wall, his right hand reaching into the folds of his shirt.
Dorean then suddenly gave a violent retch and rolled sideways off of the bed, barely missing Jaheira's feet as he landed hard on the floor. With a sob, Imoen ran to and kneeled down next to him.
The half-elves, halfling and wizard all froze, their weapons and spells in hand. They watched the dwarf vomit onto the floor as a teary-eyed Imoen vigorously rubbed his back.
Dorean then suddenly struggled to his feet, still rasping in pain.
"I've had it."
Ignoring Imoen's grip on his clothes, he grabbed his pack from the side of the bed and slung it onto his shoulders, nearly hitting Jaheira with it.
"I've had enough," he growled, keeping his head lowered and not looking at any of them. "Kill each other if you want. I'm leaving."
Moving to the door, he shoved it open with his shoulder and staggered out into the corridor.
He had gone ten paces before the dull agony in his chest flared up again, and he stumbled forward onto one knee.
Hurrying over to him and slinging Gorion's pack and Winthrop's foodbag over her shoulder, Imoen kneeled beside him again.
"I got you, little brother."
He looked at her face for a long moment before allowing his arm to be taken in hers.
"...let's go," he said.
Imoen hesitated for a second. She then nodded resolutely, wiping the tears from her face with her free hand.
Lifting him slowly to his feet, Imoen pulled Dorean close, leaning him into her. They then made their slow, hobbling way down the corridor together.
The shuffling of footsteps somewhere behind told them that the others had decided to follow. Neither of them looked back.
..
The voices of an angry dwarf and an apologetic minstrel echoed from an open doorway towards them.
"Mister Kagain, I am so sorry for-"
"You're sorry? Is that all ya haveta say, you're sorry?"
"Mister Kagain, I swear, I truly didn't know that-"
"I don't care what ya didn't know! Ya got me an' my guys into this soddin' job, an' by Clangeddin, ya gonna..."
They emerged into an area that Dorean immediately recognized as the main lobby of the Dented Shield headquarters.
Kagain, appearing none the worse for wear, was speaking to Garrick, while Bartholomew Witton and Ajantis were standing nearby off to the side. Aside from them, the lobby appeared to be empty.
Upon seeing them, Kagain turned away from Garrick and began walking towards them.
"About time ya woke up," he snapped, his beard-obscured features twisting into a contemptuous sneer as he eyed the young dwarf being supported by the human girl. "I didn't take ya on so ya can take sodding naps in my med wing. An' I thought Montaron at least-"
Letting go of Dorean, Imoen marched up to Kagain and slapped him across the face.
For a long moment, there was no sound save for its echo. Kagain stared up at Imoen, mouth tightly shut and eyes wide.
"He was hurt because of you," Imoen snarled, stabbing her finger into Kagain's beard-covered chest. "You promised to make sure it was safe," she stabbed her finger hard into his chest again. "You lied to us, you little-"
With a loud growl, Kagain's hand closed around her wrist.
There was a flurry of sound and movement as Dorean, Jaheira, Khalid and Xzar all reacted at once, drawing their knife, quarterstaff, sword, and throwing daggers. Montaron merely stared quietly, his right hand once again drifting towards his shirt.
"Don't you touch her!" Dorean snarled. Kagain's blue eyes flashed, and he looked on the verge of rage as his voice rose to a shout.
"Ya dare ta draw on me in my own-"
"ENOUGH!"
The word echoed throughout the lobby, far louder than the slap. Everyone stopped and turned to look at the young man standing next to a now-recoiling Witton.
With a deep breath, Ajantis marched across the lobby towards them, planting himself five paces from Kagain and Imoen.
"Master Kagain," he said, voice stern and commanding. "Whatever dispute or grievance you may have with these folk, your current conduct is unbecoming of both a gentleman and a dwarf."
Kagain stiffened at the words. Ajantis did not back down.
"Release her, Master Kagain, or I will be forced to take action."
Kagain stared at him for a full five seconds. He then looked at Imoen and roughly let go of her wrist. Imoen did not back away from him, returning his glare with one of her own.
"As for the rest of you," said Ajantis, turning to the party. "You are all civilized adults. Please, put your weapons away." He looked at each of them in turn.
Slowly, the party obeyed him. Dorean then grimaced and lowered his head as another jolt of pain stabbed him in the chest.
Ajantis frowned and took a step forward, but Dorean, without looking up, silently headed for the door, taking Imoen by the arm and pulling her with him.
With a shuffling of footsteps, Khalid, Jaheira, Xzar and Montaron quietly followed them.
Kagain watched them leave, his blue eyes lingering on and narrowing at Montaron as the latter casually walked past him.
..
Barely managing to stay on his feet, Dorean managed to get a few blocks down the street before the pain flaring in his chest caused him to stumble painfully against the wall of a nearby house. Passersby looked on as Imoen kneeled beside, and more than a few of them muttered under their breath about drunken dwarves.
"Dorean," said Imoen, her anxiety rising again as she watched him slowly slide down the wall onto the street. "Dorean, please. You need to rest, you need to-"
"No," he hissed between his teeth. No resting. No closing my eyes.
"You shouldn't be moving around," Imoen urged, her own breathing starting to resemble his own as she saw the sweat pouring down his forehead. Tears began to well in her eyes again.
A shadow fell across them, and Imoen looked up in time to see Xzar kneel beside her.
Pushing her aside again, Xzar quietly examined Dorean's face, his own oddly impassive.
He turned his head slightly as Khalid and Jaheira approached, but otherwise did not react to them.
When he removed a vial similar to the first one, however, the half-elves immediately stepped forward.
"Stop it!" Imoen yelled at them, drawing more looks from the locals. "Just stop! He's just trying to help him!"
The Harpers froze, looking at Imoen and then at each other. Khalid's expression was somehow more grim than Jaheira's as he turned his gaze onto the back of Xzar's head.
Ignoring them, Xzar held the vial up in front of Dorean.
"You decide," he said, his voice low yet loud enough for all of them to hear.
Dorean managed to hesitate for five seconds before taking the object from Xzar, removing the stopper with trembling fingers, and shakily downing the contents in one go.
The pain in his chest slowly but steadily began to recede.
Eventually, Dorean's breathing steadied and his body relaxed, its shoulders sagging as he leaned into the wall.
"...are you okay?" Imoen asked quietly. He quietly returned her gaze for a few seconds before nodding.
Her lower lip trembling, Imoen then threw herself onto the dwarf, hugging him around the head and smothering his face in her chest.
"Mmph-! Ge-off, I can't-"
"Don't you ever scare me like that ever again!" she wailed. "That's twice now you've done this to me today!"
"I said get off!" Dorean finally succeeded in shoving her away, coughing and spitting strands of her hair out of his mouth and beard. Imoen smiled down at him, wiping away the tears at her eyes.
She then looked at Xzar, who blinked at her smile, then promptly hugged him as well.
Xzar froze in his kneeling position, staring straight ahead.
He then opened his mouth and screamed at the top of his voice, "STOP TOUCHING ME!"
Imoen's eyes went wide, though she did not release the hug. Xzar shoved her away from him, causing her to fall on her rump. He scrambled backwards away from her and struggled to his feet, staring at her surprised and bewildered expression, then turned and ran full-pelt down the street, knocking aside several bystanders.
There was a lull in the general hubbub of the street as the party along with numerous townsfolk stared after him. The only exception was Montaron, who quietly tilted his head at Imoen before walking up to them.
"We should get somethin' to eat," he said idly. The rest of the party blinked and turned to look at him. "Not the inns. Word's got around about us, an' it ain't friendly. Nor safe, with the bounty on ye head," he added to Dorean. He turned to Jaheira. "Best to go to ye friend's place. The one ye saw last night."
Jaheira went very still, staring down at the halfling. He returned her gaze for a few more seconds before turning away.
"Don't fall behind."
He walked past them down the street. The others hesitated, looking at each other (except for Jaheira who continued to stare at Montaron), before Imoen helped Dorean to his feet and they silently began following the halfling before he could be swallowed up by the crowd.
..
They walked in silence, following Montaron through the now-crowded streets while avoiding the unfriendly and suspicious eyes of the townsfolk.
Imoen remained beside Dorean despite the latter's insistence that he no longer needed her to support him, repeatedly glancing over her shoulder and looking oddly guilty.
Behind them, Khalid looked worriedly at the dwarf. "H-how are you feeling?"
Dorean paused for a few seconds, then looked over his shoulder at him. "I am feeling fine now." He paused. "How about you? You took a pretty bad hit back there."
Khalid blinked, glancing at Jaheira who was still watching Montaron. "I...I-I-I am alright." He paused, his eyes darting between Dorean and Imoen.
"...I am sorry. What happened earlier...it was my fault. I should have been able to protect you."
Dorean blinked quietly, gazing up at him.
Guilt. I could use that, if it's genuine. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Khalid," the dwarf replied.
He gave the half-elf a few brief pats on the forearm and a smile, then turned back to face Montaron while carefully avoiding Jaheira's eyes.
Eventually, they stopped in front of an unremarkable, two-storey house with a blue roof, and Montaron turned to Jaheira and silently gestured with his head towards the door. She stared at him quietly for a few seconds before glancing at the others.
"Wait here."
She then walked past Montaron, climbed the steps to the front door and rapped on it with her knuckles.
It opened a crack, and they heard a confused (and slightly nervous) voice say Jaheira's name.
"Is that...?" said Imoen.
"...it is," said Dorean.
The door opened further, revealing Firebead Elvenhair standing behind it. He stared in silent surprise at the group standing on his front porch. Khalid, Dorean and Imoen stared back.
Then Imoen bounded up the front steps, brushing past Jaheira, and hugged the tall scholar around his mid-riff.
"Firebead! It's so good to see you!"
Firebead appeared momentarily stunned, reflexively placing his hands on Imoen's shoulders. He looked down at her face as she released the hug, and his eyes widened when he then looked at Dorean and spotted the thick bandage around his forehead.
"Are you both alright? I heard about what happened..."
"Better if we talk inside," Montaron interrupted. Firebead blinked at him, then at Jaheira. He hesitated and then slowly nodded.
"Come in."
Dorean hesitated before climbing the steps and following Imoen into the house. Ushering them in, Firebead glanced quietly at Jaheira before following the two roommates inside.
The two Harpers stared quietly at Montaron, conveying their silent warning together.
The halfling ignored them both, climbing the steps to the front door and dropping his pack and short-sword on the floor after stepping over the threshold.
..
Despite having other food in his home (mainly from trading with Beregost's market vendors and the occasional travelling merchant), most of Firebead's food came in packaged meals from Feldepost's Inn.
Having refused the bread buns and tarts, Dorean chewed on his third pear, listening as the party and Firebead swapped stories of their experiences within the past few days.
Normally, he would have concentrated on every word, particularly on Firebead, searching for any lapse or hesitation while they spoke.
However, when Firebead began telling them about being led by Elminster to Gorion's grave, images appeared in Dorean's mind.
Bright, blinding gold, where the eyes of a man in massive armour should be.
The same in the eyes of his own younger self from twenty years ago.
He slowly lowered the half-eaten fruit to the table, lost in his own thoughts.
There is a connection there, somehow. There has to be.
His expression darkened as he recalled his agony from barely an hour ago, and the one who had relieved it.
Xzar knows something about this. About what's happening to me.
"...Dorean?" Firebead's voice rose to the fore of his senses. The dwarf blinked and looked up at the old man's face.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"...I am," Dorean answered. "I just...a lot has happened today."
Firebead nodded understandably, then glanced at Montaron who alone out of everyone had remained silent since entering the house. "Montaron, is it?"
The halfling nodded.
"I understand that you and your...partner," he glanced at Jaheira and Imoen. "Prepared Gorion's final resting place." He bowed his head solemnly. "You have my thanks."
Montaron merely blinked at him and sipped his tea. His expression did not change in the slightest.
Turning hesitantly away from him, Firebead slowly looked from Dorean to Imoen. He then turned his head to look at Khalid and Jaheira, lowered his head, then lifted it again, appearing to come to a resolution.
"If it is alright with all of you, I wish to make an offer to Dorean and Imoen."
The roommates exchanged looks. "What is it?" Imoen asked for them.
"I will be travelling to Baldur's Gate soon, likely as early as this evening. And, if you both wish it, you could come with me."
Silence settled around the table, all eyes (even Montaron's) focused on the old scholar.
"What has happened to both of you..." he went on, shaking his head as he looked at the healing cuts on Imoen's face and the bandage around Dorean's forehead. "And with this bounty..." He then turned to Khalid and Jaheira with a frown. "And you intend to take them with you to Nashkel? With all the rumours surrounding the place, including one of impending war?"
Neither of the half-elves spoke. Khalid's eyes lowered to the table, though his head did not. Jaheira stared back at Firebead, her expression unreadable.
"And you, Montaron?" said Firebead, his voice noticeably cooler as he looked at the halfling seated at the far end of the table. "Forgive me for what I have to say, especially to a guest...but are you truly willing to put these two at risk for the sake of acquiring their aid in your investigation?"
"Yeah," Montaron immediately answered. He calmly returned Firebead's cold gaze, stirring the tea in his mug with a small wooden spoon.
"...I see," the scholar said at last. He then turned back to Dorean and Imoen, raising his hands as the latter opened her mouth to speak. "I understand, Imoen; you are both adults now, and can make your own decisions. However, I urge you to consider your current course." He glanced at Khalid and Jaheira again. "Do you truly still wish to go to Nashkel with them? Or would you rather come with me to the city, where it is safe?" He paused, watching the girl and dwarf's expressions. "I have friends in the city who can hide and protect you, from both the bounty hunters and the one who sent them." He looked once again at Dorean's head-wound. "You were very fortunate this time. You will not always be, and you can trust an old man's word on that."
There was a moment of silence. Jaheira and Khalid met Firebead's gaze, then each other's.
"...Firebead is correct," Jaheira said at last. "Regardless of what we may want from you," she glanced coldly at Montaron. "You should be allowed to decide your next course."
Imoen looked quietly into each and every face; Jaheira's, Khalid's, Montaron's and Firebead's. She then lowered her gaze, her fingers rubbing idly against her fork.
Finally, she slowly turned her head to look at Dorean.
"What do you think, little brother?"
He hesitated for a long moment, looking into her green eyes.
You're leaving this all up to me.
She nodded, as though he had said the sentence out loud. Dorean's gaze slowly dropped to the table.
For a long moment, the most prominent sound in the house seemed to be his own breathing; slow, deep and quiet. Everybody watched him, awaiting his decision.
He hesitated in thought, feeling the unusualy warmth of the Harper pin in his pocket through the fabric of his trousers.
He then slowly raised his head, looking up at Firebead.
"...thank you, Mister Elvenhair. Truly." He paused. "But I feel I must decline." He paused again, lowering his gaze to the table.
"My father told me something, on the night that we left. He said that if anything were to happen, that I should find the two people whom he would entrust my life to more than anyone else." He looked at Firebead again, deliberately averting his gaze from Khalid and Jaheira. "I apologize."
The old man looked down at him for a moment. He then nodded.
"I understand, Dorean."
The dwarf hesitated, wondering if he should say something about Montaron, then decided against it. Flattery doesn't work on him. It will have to be something else.
"What about you, Imoen?" said Firebead. "Do you-"
"I'm staying," she answered, her voice and face suddenly firm and resolute.
The scholar blinked. "Are you sure you-"
"I am."
Firebead leaned back slightly, then released his breath in an audible sigh and nodded with a smile.
Dorean looked up at Imoen's face. Without looking back, she placed her hand on his, giving it a light squeeze.
"In that case, I must insist on helping you by other means," said Firebead, standing up from the table and moving to a large chest in the corner beneath the stairs. "And I won't take 'no' for an answer this time."
Dorean and Imoen looked at each other, then stood up (or in Dorean's case hopped off) their chairs to follow him.
..
"I don't know how we could ever repay you," said Imoen, looking at the books and scroll case in her arms and the wands, potions and coin pouches in Dorean's.
"Just stay safe, Imoen," Firebead answered, smiling warmly at her. "And keep your brother safe as well."
Imoen paused for a moment, her head lowered, then lifted her gaze to his. "I will," she said, suddenly serious again.
She paused again, then turned and placed the books and scoll case onto Dorean's already laden arms. He scowled at her as she wrapped her arms around Firebead's chest.
His eyes narrowed briefly as he noticed the scholar's half-second of hesitation before warmly returning the hug.
He then blinked when a hand appeared from beside him, reaching for the top of the pile of items in his arms.
Taking the two books, Montaron silently looked at their covers, his expression not budging from its usual deadpan. He then went very still, his black eyes looking off at nothing as he held the books in his hands.
Then he promptly dumped them back in Dorean's arms, and walked away. Ignoring Khalid and Jaheira, he headed straight for the door, picking up his pack and short-sword along the way, and went out into the street.
Khalid continued to glare in Montaron's direction. Jaheira did not.
Dorean slowly turned away to avoid eye contact with her for the umpteenth time. He pretended to listen to Imoen and Firebead trading respective promises to visit him in Baldur's Gate and to have the famed Balduran's roast prepared for them when they arrive.
I am not safe anywhere. Candlekeep, Baldur's Gate.
His gaze lingered on Firebead. Don't trust you either. He paused in his own thoughts. Who can I trust, then?
His expression softened as he watched Imoen hug Firebead again, her eyes closed and her lips curled into a grin as she pressed her cheek to his mid-riff.
You are not alone.
The dwarf lowered his head, lost in his own thoughts.
After a moment, he blinked as he remembered something, and craned his neck to look over the pile of items at the book on top.
The History of the Dead Three.
He blinked again, then filed the information away for later as Imoen hopped over to argue and barter with him over the items.